Heh. That’s goin’ in the repretoir.
As a practicing engineer, I get the train one a lot. sigh… I also get asked to repair things that I have no clue how they work. I AM NOT SCOTTY! (I wish I was, of course, most engineers do.)
I’ve learned to like my middle name, Elliot, but it was a burden growing up in the eighties when I got to hear everyone’s bad E.T. impressions.
And no, my last name is not MacDonald or Reagan, thanks very much.
And GonzoGal is very glad that Caroline in the City is no longer on the air, for reasons that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.
I’m half Arabian, half Icelandic. I have the whole unruly, curly dark brown hair, almond eyes, off-white skin… think of Jasmin off of Aladin, except maybe 20 pounds heavier and my hairs only to my shoulders.
I get greeted by pretty much EVERYONE as “gypsy”
I get insulted as “gypsy”.
“shutup, you dumb gypsy”
“hey, gypsy, what time is it?”
and such. Whenever I’m introduced to new poeple, Its as gypsy.
My social studies teacher calls me gypsy.
when I was in grade 2, My nickname was “gypsy Lyn” becasue my middle name was Lyn.
Its terribly funny. Really. It is.
Anyone’s who’s ever worked in retail knows this chestnut:
Customer: “How much is this item?”
(I examine the product, fruitlessly looking for the price tag)
Customer: “It must be free!”
HawHawHaw.
:rolleyes:
ME: “Nope. Means the price is negotiable (depending on customer attitude)**. Shall we start at $$[ungodly amount I would never pay for said item?”
** (internal dialogue, so as not to get fired for real)
I used to enjoy that, as my best friend’s mother used to sing that song every time I came over to the house, it was comforting in a funny way. Few people nowadays seem to have heard of it.
I’m an RN, so I usually get one of two - immediate - responses: (1) “oh, so you must know Dr. So-and-So” (yeah I live in a city of millions of people, and don’t even know all the doctors in the one hospital I work at!) or (2) they start telling me all the intimate details of their medical problems and aches and pains. Once in a while, I’ll get a really nice response, like, “what a wonderful profession, I had a (insert surgical procedure here) and the nurses were just great!”
My college roomate was hearing impaired, and she used to always get the, “what are you, deaf or something?” joke. I always ran for cover when that happened.
AH! I was going to post this! It doesn’t usually come up the first time I meet someone, but eventually it may come up that I am a flutist.
And I’ve been to band camp. (It was mandatory, in high school marching band.)
Oh. You are so funny. FUNNY. YOU. HA!
Is there anyone who would like to donate money, say, a dollar for every time someone says this to me? Please?
I’ve never even seen the movie, but I know the entire fricking dialogue regarding the flute at band camp “joke”, thanks to the “comedians” I know.
I am a Kansan. I’ll bet you can already tell me the questions that people asked me during the years I lived out of state, when they found out where I was from.
How’s Dorothy/Toto/Auntie Em?
Seen any Munchkins lately?
Etc., etc., and so forth.
There was one period when the question was different. That was in 1983, when *The Day After * came out. Folks would say about Kansas “Is it still there?”
Yes!
I was recently at a band camp and every SINGLE person who meets me is like,
“This one time, at band camp…”
Yeah. Witty.
I tell them I play the clarinet.
“This one time, at band camp…” - with the clarinet inserted in place of the flute.
Yeah, real witty, mate.
I also heard somebody make a crack that the band kids ‘did stuff with their instruments’ in a way that made it sound like a half decent inneunedo, or at least that they thought it was one.
I told them that most of the kids are about 12 and resisted the urge to punch them.
My last name is Nolte.
No. No, I’m not.
On a different note, I would just like to add that my girlfriend Monica was very happy to say goodbye to the late 90’s.
Elementary school playground:
Kid: What’s your name?
Me: Jill.
Kid: Huh?
Me: You know. Like Jack & Jill
Kid: Jack and Jill, went up the hill, blah blah blah
Me: <I hate these kids !!>
Forty years later:
Party-goer: What’s your name?
Me: Jill. Like Jack & Jill
Party-goer: Huh?
Me: <arching one eyebrow and glowering> Jack was pushed. Understand??
My RL name is Jake. So, “Jake the Snake” is the un-orinal nickname given to me by dumb people.
On the basis of my psych degree:
“So, are you analyzing me?”
Nope.
“You’re going to figure us all out, huh?”
I’ll do my best.
“Can’t do much with that.”
No shit. Do you always evaluate peoples’ possible career paths the instant you’ve met them?
On the basis of my first name, Summer:
“Do you have a sister named Autumn?”
“Have a good summer, Summer.”
“Did you have a good summer, Summer?”
“Does your name change in the winter?”
I curse the makers of Summer’s Eve.
On the basis of my last name:
“You must be Italian.”
Oddly enough, I’m not. It’s a reasonable assumption, but it’s a long story.
“Is your dad in the Mob?”
You should answer, “No, but my Mom is, you sexist jerk!” That’ll throw 'em.
“Alice,… what, in wonderland? HAAR HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR”
For special occassions, I put my hair up in a pompador. Because of the grease I use, it stays this way for a loooong time. So, often times, I get:
“Hey there, slick!”
“Lookin’ slick there, guy.”
For special occassions, I put my hair up in a pompador. Because of the grease I use, it stays this way for a loooong time. So, often times, I get:
“Hey there, slick!”
“Lookin’ slick there, guy.”
Customer: There’s no price on this! It must be free!
Me: No. It’s priceless.
I’m an attorney. Why the FUCK does anyone think that gives them permission to mock my profession? 
Inevitably, if I mention that I am a very light drinker and that my limit is only 1-2 beers a night before I’m loaded, someone will say:
You’re a cheap date.
Yes, bravo. Very good.
Some people ask, “Are you Asian?” (Duh!) I say, “Yes…I’m half Asian.” Their response? “What half?” meaning like my top or bottom, left or right. Brilliant.
Tibs.
Oh God, there’s more.
I work in the nuclear field. Specifically, nuclear safety.
Oh, and yes, I live in Springfield.
I get called Homer Simpson a lot.